Shot Fired
by thewriteday
Summary: One intervention changes everything about their relationship. Brenda/Sharon pairing. Hazards in the workplace (mainly, bullets).
1. Chapter 1

When Brenda turns the corner, she does _not_ expect to see _her_. And when she storms up to the Captain to share a great, whopping piece of her mind, she does not expect the Captain to pull her against the wall.

When Raydor covers her mouth with her hand, Brenda thinks wildly for a moment that she should bite it in petulant fury.

But then Brenda notices how shaky that hand is, how wide Raydor's eyes are, and how tightly she has her back against that wall - which come to think of it is in a corner of the hallway half-obscured from the murder room. Brenda feels suddenly very cold.

Raydor is clutching Brenda's upper arm tightly in one hand, with the other still clamped over her mouth. She doesn't speak, but finally registers the force she's used to silence the Chief and removes her hand. But before she drops it from the other woman's mouth, she brings it to her own lips in a sign for her to keep quiet. Then she peeks back around the corner towards the murder room, forgetting the Chief for a moment.

Brenda follows her gaze and finds nothing.

Instead she hears something: some_one_ speaking. Then there's another voice, asking the first to stop, to put the weapon down, to surrender. The second voice sounds like Gabriel. And the first... it sounds a lot like Corporal Friar, who until recently, had been torturing his fellow soldiers with impunity. Until he'd stepped outside his sphere of military protection and into the world of civilian homicide.

She registers the fact that she's left her gun in her office only a moment before the Corporal steps into her line of vision. In one more moment he turns his gaze and she is in his sights. The sights of his handgun pointed in her direction.

It drags on: this moment. She knows now that as she'd heard his voice, she had stepped out of the shelter of the Captain's corner, intending to fire a weapon she didn't have at a culprit who was clearly out for her blood. She can see it in his eyes as he narrows them.

She inhales. She feels two arms pull her back against the wall just as she hears the crack of the bullet. She's held tight against the Captain, who is using the wall and her body as shields against the assault.

Brenda feels the closeness, the rasp of breath, the tightness of Raydor's grip. Her mind is blank. She is simply alive, surprisingly so, and wrapped in an oddly fierce embrace.

She vaguely registers the sound of struggle and the shouting in the murder room, the sounds of her team and a few uniformed cops making short work of their escaped suspect. It will be impossible for him to evade punishment now. But this fact is, for once, far from Brenda's mind.

She nearly died. This isn't a new sensation, but it never lessens. It keeps her wide awake and aware of where she is in that second, just like it always has. And suddenly she is all too aware of the Captain.

Sharon exhales and loosens her grip but doesn't let go. She lets her head fall back against the wall, her eyes shut, her chest rising and falling in steadier and steadier heaves. _She's beautiful_, Brenda thinks. She doesn't wonder why she thinks it, it just _is_.

Even though her head is against the wall, Sharon is still quite close. A little leaning is all Brenda would need to kiss her.

"Chief, are you all right?"

Flynn's voice is the catalyst that breaks them apart. Raydor releases her hold on Brenda, not quickly, but slowly, letting her hands fall down Brenda's arms. Brenda's eyes finally un-fix themselves from Raydor and she looks to Andy.

"Yeah, I'm alright, 've got my very own bodyguard lookin' out for me, apparently."

She glances over at Raydor when she says it and the Captain lets out a gust of air almost like a laugh.

"We've got Friar in custody. He broke out of his interview room, gave Tao a black eye, and went looking for you."

"Do me a favour, Lieutenant. Don't let that happ'n again." Brenda

Brenda notices a widening blotch of red on her sleeve.

"Sharon, y'r bleedin'." Brenda reaches out for the wounded arm on instinct and pulls it closer to inspect.

"Must have grazed me," is the response. The Captain says it nonchalantly, as though she hasn't just stepped in to save Brenda's life.

Brenda blinks at her in awe. She'd never really thought of Raydor as an ally before. But the evidence in front of her makes her confront her judgements of the Captain head-on. She can't ignore the way she's been treated by the Major Crimes team, like some villain from a melodramatic, silent movie. Like someone inhuman.

Seeing the FID leader this way makes her seem more human than anyone.

* * *

Brenda waits with the other woman until the FID arrives and they separate to give their versions of events. Re-hashing what's occurred leaves Brenda frustrated and tired.

Brenda's done first. She finds herself glancing over at the room that Sharon disappeared into. She wishes everyone would stop asking if she's okay when all she wants to do is burst into the room where the Captain is, haul her out, and tell her never to do that again.

Instead she checks the time, huffs, and stomps off towards her office, shutting herself inside and devouring bits and pieces from her candy stash.

A half hour passes before she hears a knock at her door.

Raydor doesn't wait for acknowledgement before she lets herself in.

"I hear you wanted to see me?"

Brenda furrows her brow. "I didn't say that."

"My colleagues informed me you were glowering outside the meeting room where I was giving my statement."

Brenda blushes, frowns, and pops a Werther's into her mouth.

Sharon waits for a response, but it doesn't come. So instead she shuts the door behind her and walks to Brenda's desk. She plucks a lollipop out of the open drawer and then shuts it and sits against the desktop, unwrapping the candy as she goes. She drops the wrapper in the garbage can, pops the lollipop in her mouth and turns her attention on the Chief.

Brenda, for her part, only stares as this transpires, her eyes eerily transfixed on Sharon's mouth.

"Didn't say you could do that," Brenda mutters, her mouth full of caramel.

"I didn't ask." Sharon says. "Now, are you angry because I pulled you out of the way or because the bullet meant for_ you_ grazed _me_, or both?"

Brenda huffs.

Sharon nods. "So both, then. All right, what would you have had me done instead? Let you get shot? You seemed more than eager to put yourself in harm's way. Without your gun, might I add. Not that you could have anticipated-"

"I ain't mad at you, I'm mad at MYSELF!" Brenda interrupts, unable to listen to the incessant assumptions anymore.

Sharon is silenced. She seems to consider moving away from the Chief, losing their proximity, but thinks better of it. She inspects her lollipop. It's far from finished, but she's done with it anyway. She drops it into the trash can.

"You've been through something... uncomfortable today, Chief. I know it never gets any easier, I've been there. You don't have to punish yourself for something you had no idea was going to happen."

Brenda pouts.

"You don't need to punish me either. But you already know that." Sharon studies the other woman. "Chief, give me your eyes?"

Brenda hesitates and then looks up at her. She's taken her blazer off, no doubt to allow the paramedics to clean her arm up. It's bare and bandaged but the blazer is probably a write-off. The Captain almost looks dressed-down this way, in only slacks and a tank top. Brenda finds it inviting and disarming.

Raydor leans in a little, close enough that Brenda can see how bright and vibrant her eyes are, hidden away behind her glasses.

"I'm glad I was there. I'm here to help you, Brenda. Don't forget it." Sharon smirks and leans back again, only to lift herself from the desk and round it, heading for the door. She's opening it when Brenda calls out to her.

"Cap'n?"

Sharon turns. "Yes, Chief?"

"I'm glad you were there too. Thank you."

Sharon smirks. "Anytime. I'm your personal bodyguard, after all."

With that, she leaves. And Brenda is left with a smile and a great number of confusing feelings. Sharon Raydor gets more and more interesting by the minute.


	2. Chapter 2 - The Replacement

**Chapter 2 - The Replacement**

A/N: Updates won't always be this quick (very rarely, in fact) but I felt compelled to continue. I'm kind of terrified that this will become another one of my un-ended stories (in which case I apologize profusely) but I'm going to try.

* * *

It's a couple of weeks since the near-shooting and Brenda is lost in her own workplace. Well, a part of it anyway. It's taken a week and a half just to rustle up the courage to come down in the elevator. Now that she's on the right floor, she isn't sure she wants to do this. She wouldn't have even _had _to come this far if Raydor had just been haunting the murder room like she usually does. But the Captain has been suspiciously absent. Even when she's had to visit Major Crimes, it's never been long enough to strike up a conversation.

Brenda shakes her head at the thought that she's now actively _trying_ to have a conversation with Sharon Raydor.

Brenda is pretty sure she's only ever been in the FID office maybe three times. None of them pleasant. She smiles uncomfortably at the alternatingly blank and suspicious faces of the FID officers as she passes by their desks, but it doesn't seem to reassure them.

She stops at the desk of an officer she recognizes - Officer Pete Randall - who is one of the few that directly meets her eyes. He doesn't look suspicious of her. A little surprised, maybe. But he gives her a small smile to ease her obvious discomfort.

"Hello, Chief Johnson. What brings you all the way down to our neck of the woods? Nothing bad, I hope." His eyes drop to the box Brenda is carrying, or rather, gripping tightly to her stomach as if it's a concealed weapon.

"C'n you point me in the direction of Captain Raydor's office? I feel like I'm wandering around in circles."

Randall nods, stands, and motions for her to follow him. "Can't blame you for getting lost. When they promoted her years back, she was promised a bigger office. It was slightly bigger. But it's also not within the boundaries of FID, per se."

Randall leads her down a long hallway and round a few corners and she feels like she's entered the twilight zone as a light flickers overhead.

"Their idea of a 'reward' for a member of FID, I guess. We're _still_ trying to find a solution, but the Captain doesn't want the higher-ups to think it gets to her."

When he stops, Brenda looks left and right of the office with Raydor's name pinned to the door. To the left, a men's bathroom. To the right, what looks like a storage closet. Suddenly she feels less nervous and more guilty that this is how the woman is treated in her own office.

Randall turns to her. "If you need anything else, let me know, Chief."

He moves to leave.

"Lieutenant Randall?"

"Yes, Chief?"

Brenda hesitates. "How has she been? Since the shooting? If you don't mind me asking."

Randall seems to consider this for a moment. "That isn't really my place to say. But you know, you could probably just ask _her_ that." He says somewhat cheekily as he leans his head towards Raydor's door and Brenda shoots him a smile.

"Of course. Thank you, Lieutenant."

Brenda watches him leave, admiring how protective he is of his superior. Even if she doesn't have the adoration of the police department as a whole, Raydor clearly has the respect and loyalty of her peers in FID. It's easy to forget that sometimes.

Brenda takes a deep breath and knocks gently at the door. She waits for the muffled response on the other side and then enters.

She used to think her office back in Atlanta was small, but it was spacious compared to this. There's a large window behind Raydor, but the blinds are closed and Brenda wonders why. It would certainly give more light and openness to the cramped quarters. She figures the woman must have her reasons.

That _woman_ is seated behind her desk, eying Brenda and her mysterious package incredulously, waiting for her to speak. Then, as usual, _she_ goes first.

"Yes, Chief? What can I help you with?" Raydor removes her glasses and sets them on the desk. The lines around her eyes look deeper than usual, the colour under her them: darker. Her tone is sharp. Impatient. And Brenda is compelled to turn tail and scamper away from the den of the wicked witch. But she shakes this off.

"It was quite an experience trying to find you. I'm not used to havin' to look s' hard." Brenda tries for something light and casual, but it comes off a little more bitterly than she'd intended. She tries to soften it with a smile.

Sharon returns the smile tightly. "Yes. Well, suffice to say I am a little _off_ the beaten path. What do you need?" Sharon pushes, clearly trying to get this little meeting over with. She hasn't met Brenda's eyes for longer than a few seconds.

"I don't need anything, actually." Brenda tries, stepping carefully towards the desk as if she's approaching a lion. "But I thought _you_ might need a little something." Brenda plants the box down on Sharon's desk, with a little more impact than either was expecting. Sharon's eyes widen when it drops. Her eyes flick back up to Brenda.

"What is it?"

Brenda crosses her arms and looks a little smug. "Usually, when you get a gift, you're supposta open it before you start asking all sortsa questions. _Captain_."

Sharon's eyebrow quirks a little until she relents. She sighs, and lifts the lid of the box, pulling some bits of tissue paper aside. She puts her hand inside the box and feels the material of the item inside. She hadn't recognized the packaging, but then, that was no accident. Brenda must have disguised it on purpose so she wouldn't notice the label right away.

Sharon shakes her head in shock.

"I checked the tag for the store and size on the old one. They didn't have the same colour, but I thought this might do as a replacement, anyway." Brenda says. She wonders why she'd put this off so long. She's proud of her purchase now that it's finally in the hands of its rightful owner.

Sharon lifts the cobalt blue blazer out of the box and holds it up for inspection. It's a different cut than the one ruined by the bullet, but it's a worthy competitor. And surprisingly tasteful considering Brenda's usual sense of style.

"It's beautiful," Sharon says, laying the blazer back down in the box. "But it's too much." Sharon is a little embarrassed that Brenda is now aware how much she spends on an item of clothing.

Brenda shakes her head. "Honestly, it was a heck of a lot less expensive than I was prepared for, and well worth it considering what you did. Which, might I remind you, was saving my life. This is the least I can do."

Sharon smiles then, genuinely, the light of it filling her eyes. Her eyes glisten a little and Brenda's grin falters.

"Cap'n, are you all right?"

Sharon wipes at her eye, drawing a little moisture away.

"Yes, I'm sorry. It's just been a long week."

Brenda is afraid to push. This is not a conversation like any other she's ever had with the head of FID. She hardly has conversations about feelings or troubles with _anyone_ besides Fritz or her parents. Occasionally a member of her team opens up to her, but even _that's_ rare. But something about Sharon's abrupt shift in mood concerns her, and she presses on.

"Because of what happened? I know there can be residual shock, restlessness, anxiety-"

"No, no," Sharon waves the explanations away. She takes a deep breath. "It's- it's personal. My husband is in town."

"Oh!" Brenda feels like she's been slapped awake. "I didn't realize you were married."

"Separated." Sharon says firmly. "But he feels the need to check in once in a while." Suddenly, Sharon's face flushes and she looks around her office for something else to focus on. She lets out a shaky breath. "I'm sorry, Chief. I shouldn't be talking about this. Not terribly professional of me."

"Captain, I'd rather hear about what's botherin' you than wonder why. It's comforting to know I'm not the only one o' yer problems."

Sharon laughs loudly at that. When she settles, she locks eyes with Brenda. "I don't consider you a problem. Far from it."

Brenda feels suddenly very warm. Her stomach is tight and her palms are damp. It feels the same as when Sharon goes on and on about her damn rules, only this time it isn't anger she's feeling. She can't completely understand why it is that _this_ sentiment makes her feel so odd. Maybe it's simply that it's unexpected.

Brenda smiles broadly. "Well that's a relief. And here I thought you were just avoidin' me on purpose."

"Well now that you seen my outlandish office, you must understand why it's so hard to stay away."

"It is _quite_ the arrangement. C'n I ask why you don't let the light in?"

Sharon points her finger in the air and stands. "So glad you asked." She reaches for the string of the blinds and pulls, revealing an expanse of red brick so close it could be touched if the window actually opened. "Not exactly an inspiring view. And not close enough to hit my head against, though some days I'm tempted to try."

Brenda is dumbfounded at the sight. She steps around the desk and peers out the window, trying to see how far the wall extends. It belongs to the warehouse next-door. It houses some mixture of shops and apartments she's never bothered to notice. And until now, Brenda hadn't realized how close it was to this side of their building.

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. This is absurd!" Brenda's mouth hangs in awe.

"I have to agree with you there." Sharon lowers the blinds again and returns them to dim, fluorescent lighting. It isn't ideal, but it's better than staring at the big, red metaphor for Sharon's job.

"Wait - pull the blinds back up." Brenda says.

Sharon looks at her quizzically. "Miss the view already?" Sharon does as the Chief asks and then steps to the side.

Brenda pulls out her phone and hits the camera function. She backs up to the doorway and lines up a shot of the entire office, Sharon included. "Say cheese!" Brenda says before Sharon has a moment to react. Brenda then steps outside the office and takes pictures of the surroundings: the flickering light, the washroom, the storage closet, and the dead-end hallway. When she's finished, she puts her phone in the pocket of her dress and turns her attention back to the Captain, who is baffled.

"My mama taught me that sometimes, there ain't no better weapon in a woman's arsenal than a strongly-worded letter."

Sharon tilts her head and then has an a-ha moment. "Oh. Chief, I appreciate the thought, but I've given up this fight a long time ago. Every once in a while, my team tries again, but I've long since learned that it's not going to bear any fruit."

"I'm not asking you to do anything. _I'll_ be the one writin' the letter." Brenda grins, suddenly full of a kind of ambitious energy.

"You really don't have to do that. It's more effort than it's worth, believe me." Sharon looks tired again, exhausted by the mere idea of broaching the old argument.

"Captain Raydor, this office is a clear and calculated insult to your position. It's disrespectful to your office, to your title, and to your character. And frankly, it's a move I would even consider downright sexist if I were in your position. Every LA officer deserves to be treated in a manner befitting their rank and service to this city and currently, I feel you're bein' _extremely_ belittled despite being an extraordinary officer. If you really don't want me to butt in, then I won't say a word, but I think it's worth tryin'. Especially since the department knows I'm never really been... a vocal supporter of you in general. Makes the request more profound, less like favoritism."

Sharon's mouth falls open for a moment, awestruck that this conversation is even occurring. She's seen Brenda in interrogative action before. And god knows she's had a handful of the woman's righteous tirades aimed at her. But being on the receiving end of her matter-of-fact-ness in a positive way is an entirely different sensation. She feels her will to argue being totally sapped, though she doesn't feel worse for it.

"Sure." She says finally. "If you'd like to try, then I'd appreciate that very much." She pauses and a small smile eases into her face. "It sounds like you've written many a strongly-worded letter in your lifetime, Chief."

"Like I said, Cap'n," Brenda says. "No better weapon." She smiles and adds, "Enjoy your new blazer. I bet it'll suit you real nicely."


	3. Chapter 3 - Political Animals

**Shot Fired ****– ****Chapter 3 – Political Animals**

A/N: The OIG is the Office of the Inspector General, and while they nor the Police Commission may actually get involved in this situation in real life, Imma use 'em anyway. Apologies for any typos - didn't have a lot of time to edit.

* * *

"Are you _trying_ to get me fired?"

The air in the office of the Chief of Police is thick with stress. Brenda felt it as soon as she entered the room. Now Will stands behind his desk, somewhere between seething and pouting.

_A petulant, little boy with grey hair and a uniform, _Brenda thinks. She'd laugh if she weren't so pissed off. Being called to his office like a schoolchild, while she's in the middle of an investigation, is far from the highlight of her day. She stays silent in her chair, arms crossed.

"I have the Board of Commissioners jumping down my throat because the OIG received a letter from one of our staff. A letter from a certain, high-ranking, _female_ officer about a perceived issue of "disrespect" towards Captain Raydor."

"What can I say? I produced some good readin' material. Thought a few people should see it. And Inspector General Perez agreed with me. See, she understands what being a woman in the LAPD means, and how difficult it can be to deal with so many impediments to one's duty."

Will doesn't miss a beat. He opens a desk drawer and pulls out a familiar sheet of official LAPD letterhead, tossing it on the desk towards her.

"You don't have to recite it back to me, Brenda. The Commission sent your tirade to me last week. Asked _me_ for an explanation. I didn't know a damn thing about it! The _smallest_ professional courtesy would have been giving me a warning before you opened fire on this office!"

Brenda smirks a little and narrows her eyes at him. "You don't know a thing ab't it. So you didn't go down to FID just last year when you _personally_ asked Captain Raydor to monitor Major Crimes? You didn't step into the _very_ office I was talkin' about and see for yourself just how ridiculous the conditions are where she's workin'? Because I did my research, Will. I asked the entire _division_, not to mention your own secretary, and they all said you'd been down there. More than once. So don't stand here and tell me you had no idea."

Pope laughs like he can't believe any of this is real. "Why in God's name are you doing this?! You don't even _like_ Raydor!"

Brenda's face turns stony. She stands from her seat and leans across Pope's desk. The movement is slow, predatorial. Her voice escapes like a growl.

"My personal feelings towards the Captain, whatever they may be, don't come close to my impatience for the contemptuous, uncivil treatment of any officer of the law. The behaviour towards FID of this department - including that of my own unit _and_ of myself - has been inexcusable. You'll notice I told the Inspector General _that_ too. The attitude of the LAPD needs an adjustment and this is jus' one small symptom of that."

Pope doesn't flinch. Instead, his face fills with a sort of understanding. He smirks maddeningly. "Oh, _I _get it. This is because of the shooting, isn't it? Feeling indebted to the Captain? Maybe she mentioned that you somehow "owe" her and this is your idea of a repayment?"

"Jesus Christ, Will! It just kills you to see me stick up f'r someone that ain't you. Or maybe it's seein' the two of us get along for once." Brenda pauses, smiles to herself. "Or _maybe_ it's just that I pointed out that you may not be doin' your job like you're s'posed to and now yer feelin' a touch inadequate. Well all I have to say, _Chief_, is: you're welcome. Now you know how it feels."

Brenda shoots one last glare at his reddening face before she whips around and heads for the door. She slams it as she leaves.

She's like a whippoorwill out of hell as she bursts in and then out of the elevator at her floor, heading straight for her office. She holds up a hand to Provenza's face as he starts to update her.

"Not now, Lieutenant."

Provenza backs off immediately. "Yes ma'am."

She flies into her office, landing her back against the door as she shuts it behind her and feels about ready to scream. Instead, she notices a set of curious green eyes studying her.

"What are you doing here?" The question sounds more like an accusation than anything and Raydor shifts in the space where she is standing.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to come at a bad time. Your team said you were on your way back to your office…" She trails off and looks like she'd flee if only Brenda weren't standing guard at the door.

Brenda's shoulders drop. She takes a breath, steadies herself. "I just had the pleasure of a one-on-one meeting with our illustrious Chief." She says before stepping all the way into the office and rounding her desk. She sits in a heap.

"Ah." Raydor says. Her posture relaxes. "And I imagine he sends his warmest regards?"

Brenda scoffs. "Not quite." Brenda licks her lips, refocusing her attention on the Captain, who she notices still hasn't taken a seat across from her. "What can I help you with?"

Raydor smiles. It isn't one of her godawful, self-satisfied smirks. Or even one of her tight-lipped, forced smiles. This one is warm and genuine and Brenda is light-headed at the sight.

"You've already helped me more than I could have hoped, Chief. Really." Raydor takes a moment to breathe. She's still standing there and it's clear she feels exposed. She puts her hands in her pockets and her gaze wanders the windows and walls, anywhere but Brenda. "It might seem like a small thing – getting an office that isn't essentially a storage closet – but it's more than that. Having the attention and support of the OIG, the Commission…" Raydor trails off, her gaze slowly finding it's way back to the befuddled blonde. Raydor's eyes are catching the light of mid-afternoon and they disarm her. "And of a certain superior officer."

Brenda's face feels hot. She's glad her blinds are closed so her team can't spy on her grinning like an idiot.

Raydor's smile widens for a moment. She nods to herself, confirming what she's about to say. "It's heartening. It feels like what I'm doing isn't disregarded or unwanted. It feels like my work is appreciated. I stopped looking for any kind of positive reinforcement or respect from my peers a long time ago. It just doesn't happen in IA. But what you did…" Sharon's hands clench in her pockets. It's as if she's stopping herself, rewriting the lines she's practised before she can speak them. "Thank you, Chief." She hesitates then adds, "Thank you. _Brenda_."

The Captain looks like she's on the verge of tears. Brenda is dumbstruck. She doesn't know what to do. If they were friends, it would be an opportunity for her to reach out to the woman, to embrace and comfort her, to let her know physically that she is here for her.

But they're not friends. Not quite. And Brenda feels her heart trying to leap past her ribcage in response, as if trying to beat out the words, "WHAT NOW?"

And of course she knows what she _wants_ to do. She wants to step from behind the safety of her desk and give the woman a goddamn hug. She wants to offer her support. She _believes_ in that support

The problem is that she's also terrified. The only time she's with people this vulnerable, she's _causing_ it. Manipulating the emotions of some unwilling suspect in an effort to draw something out that they didn't mean or want to divulge.

But Sharon isn't being manipulated. She's _offering_ her vulnerability. Freely. It makes her more human and more accessible than she's ever seemed and it's simply terrifying to be let in like that by someone she once despised.

Sharon seems to be held in the moment too, waiting. Waiting for something to happen.

It doesn't. The moment passes and Sharon's smile falters.

"You're very welcome." Brenda hears herself say. The sound of her voice is almost robotic, strained by the tenseness of her posture and her rapidly whirring brain.

Sharon's eyes have lost the light. She avoids Brenda's gaze and nods again, falling back into a professional mode. She looks disappointed but unsurprised. Brenda's heart hurts.

"Just wanted to come by and say it in person. Have a good day, Chief." Sharon, removes her hands from her pockets, turns, and begins her walk to the door.

Brenda's brain and heart and lungs and every other bit that earns a voice scream at her in unison. _Oh, fer heaven's sakes! _She thinks to herself in exasperation. She bounds out of her seat and before the Captain can leave, Brenda lays a hand on her shoulder.

"Sharon," she says and when Sharon turns to look at her, shock evident in her face, Brenda puts her arms around the woman, giving her a firm hug that would make any good Southerner proud.

Sharon's arms are a bit slow to respond, but when they do, Brenda knows she's made the right decision. She tightens her grip on her a little and even lets her eyes fall shut. She picks up the scent of her shampoo – lavender maybe? – and underneath, a whiff of chlorine. In her arms, she feels how slight the woman is, but strong too.

Brenda opens her eyes and lets go a little reluctantly, taking a step back.

"You're more than worth the respect and support, Sharon. I'm just sorry it took this long for me to stop bein' so childish. To realize that I could help somehow."

Sharon's warm smile returns. Brenda is close enough to see the little lines in her lips and the wrinkles that deepen around her eyes. It's hard to reconcile this woman with the one she met only a few years ago: the one that had her dead-to-rights within a few seconds of conversation. But she likes the contradiction. She likes that Sharon Raydor is a complex woman, a woman who hides more than she reveals. It's always been more satisfying to Brenda to work for something. Makes the prize that much more rewarding.

"I think we've both had our moments of immaturity. But I'm hoping that part of our relationship is over. For the most part, at least." Her voice is a devastating purr at this range. Low and soothing and powerful. Brenda licks her lips and tries not to think about the word, "relationship."

"I'd like to think it is." Brenda says.

"Will you come down and see me sometime? In my new surroundings? I'm moving into the new spot next week and it only seems right that you see the fruits of your labour."

"I'd like that." Brenda says. And means it.

* * *

Brenda rolls her shoulders and drops her purse at the front door. This day has been _long_. And while she does not regret for a moment the decision to stand up for Raydor - the Captain's visit was an unexpected and oddly delightful reward - she is a _little _bit regretting the consequences. She never goes too long from the world of petty, police politics, but this latest escapade seems to eclipse her past forays.

Pope (and his audibly uncomfortable assistant) have been leaving passive aggressive messages on her cell. Which maybe she could report him for, but then he's careful _not_ to say what he really wants to, using thinly-veiled orders and requests of the department instead. If she has to hear his voice one more time today, she thinks she'll scream. So instead, she underhand tosses her phone at the couch as she enters the sitting room.

"Ouch!" Fritz flinches and deflects the phone, but it still hits him in the chest before it falls onto the couch cushions.

Brenda's hands fly to her mouth. "Oh! Oh my gosh! Fritzy, I'm so sorry!" Then she blinks a little. "Why're you sittin' in the dark?"

"I was trying to have a little evening nap, but I didn't realize the idea bothered you so much." He stands, making his way over to her to drop a kiss on her head.

"I'm sorry. Work today was just... well it was complicated." Brenda drags herself to the couch and falls into it dramatically. "Pope dragged me into his office this mornin' so he could have a dyin' duck fit with my undivided attention. And then he proceeds to get halfway up my backside while 'm tryin' to close a case."Though the Cap'n did come by to say thanks. Was real gracious about it." She pauses to consider. "I guess I just never realized how tedious a little bit of the written word could be."

She finally looks up at Fritz. He looks like he's been blindsided by a tractor.

"I'm sorry, honey. How w's your day?"

Fritz chuckles and leaves the room. "Comparatively boring." He calls from the kitchen. She yanks herself free of the couch and follows him.

He's unpacking various containers of take-out and assembling a couple of plates of food. He finishes one and sticks it in the microwave, slamming the door shut with a little more force than necessary.

Brenda's mouth hangs open for a moment. "Oh. Shit, I forgot."

Fritz glances up at her a little while he continues to stack food on the second plate. "Forgot what, Brenda?" He mutters dimly.

"Fritzy, I meant to be home on time, honestly. I - oh hell, I didn't ev'n get you anything."

Fritz shakes his head a little. "It's not a big deal. Not like we made much of a stink last year either. It's an anniversary, not the end of the world." The microwave beeps and Fritz removes the first plate and slides the second in.

"At least let me help," Brenda reaches for the takeout containers, trying to pack things up.

But Fritz pushes her hand away as soon as it reaches. "Don't." He says firmly, a little _too _firmly. He swallows at the roughness in his tone and corrects it. "Just pour yourself a glass of wine, sit down, and relax. It's not a big deal."

Somehow saying that "it isn't a big deal" twice doesn't reassure either of them.

"I don't need the wine." Brenda says a little curtly before she sits down at the table, feeling a little like an admonished child.

"I know." Fritz says, more apology in his voice than bitterness.

He brings both plates to the table and pours them each some water. They both eat in silence for a few minutes before he speaks again.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Why defend Raydor like that? Why the change of heart?"

Brenda chews and shrugs. "I jus' started feeling bad, I guess. She puts up with a lot. And I realized I could do something about it. It doesn't make up for how I treated her department before, but it's something."

Fritz has stopped chewing. He stares at his wife with his eyebrows raised.

"What?" Brenda asks.

It's Frtiz's turn to shrug. "Nothing. I'm just impressed. Shows a level of maturity I never realized you were capable of." He's trying to suppress a smirk.

Brenda kicks him under the table but can't help but smile. "Mr. Howard, how _dare_ you sass me!"

Fritz turns his full grin on her. "Why, Miss Brenda Leigh, it's my favourite thing to do."

* * *

A/N: Next time: Brenda visits Sharon in her new office. And possibly a party. Stay tuned! (Sorry it's taken me so long. Can't guarantee speedy updates while I'm working full time.) Reviews are love!


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